Moments: A Perpetual Collection
by kabensi
Summary: A perpetual collection of Faberry vignettes. Most are rated K, but may venture into T. Each chapter is really just a standalone ficlet and they're all unrelated unless otherwise specified.
1. The Prize is Right

**A/N:** This is just a collection of vignettes that I've written (or will write). They're not connected to each other, they're just things that were based on prompts or thoughts I had and they don't fit into any other stories.

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><p>Quinn pulls the car into the drive-thru lane and asks, "What do you want?" while she studies the menu.<p>

Her passenger doesn't even bother to look up from her sheet music. "Just a salad."

That's enough to pull Quinn's attention away from the menu board and refocus it on her girlfriend. "We still have two hours of driving and then dinner isn't until seven."

Rachel finally looks up from the pages in her lap. "Okay, then also some fries. Just a small, though."

Quinn groans and throws her head back against the seat. The car in front of them pulls forward and it's nearly their turn to order.

"Quinn? What's the problem?"

"I need you to order a Happy Meal."

"Those don't come with salads. And, after dating me for the better part of six months, I would think you'd recall that I don't eat cheeseburgers."

"It's not like it's real meat," Quinn jokes, but the smile drops off her face as soon as she sees the glare Rachel's giving her. "Shelby doesn't eat fast food."

Rachel's not sure what to do with that. "I... don't really, either."

"Shelby doesn't, which means Beth doesn't, which means she's not getting any of those cool Pixar toys."

"They're probably made in China and-" Rachel realizes the origin of the toys isn't important. "All right. I'll have a salad and a Happy Meal. With McNuggets. Because you'll eat those."

Quinn leans over the center console and kisses Rachel's cheek. "Thanks."

"You really should consider taking Finn and Puck out when we get back home. They can probably help you round out the whole collection."

"I already did. But we ended up with three Nemos and we were trying to get Wall-E."

"Well, I hope this trip proves to be more successful."

"It already is."


	2. On Being Content

Quinn just wants to sleep. Like, that's all she wants.

But she knows Rachel's up with the baby and she always feels guilty when she stays in bed. Plus, it's hard to sleep through all the chatter and singing that filters through the baby monitor.

So, she drags herself out of bed and wraps herself in the soft purple throw that's usually draped over the armchair in the corner of the bedroom. Jonathan's room is dimly lit by the monkey nightlight in the corner, but Quinn can still make out ever single detail of Rachel's face. They might just be from memory, though. "You didn't have to get up," Rachel whispers, trying not to stir the drowsy baby in her arms. Quinn just wraps her arms around her wife and her son. If she has to be awake at the most god-awful hours of the night, she'd rather be here, like this, than anywhere else.


	3. Geektastic

"We could just get one of those catalogs."

"But don't you want to know who it is?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you even bringing that up?"

"Rach, we're putting the baby in _**you**_, so… you kind of get to decide."

"No, _**we're**_ deciding."

"Okay. Well, Puck's out because his junk doesn't work."

"Technically, I'm sure his junk works just fine."

"Ew. Can we actually not evaluate that, right now? Or ever?"

"I always thought it was weird that you and Sam dated, because you look related."

"Is that your way of suggesting him?"

"Yes. Even if we end up with a kid that wants to time travel to the Andromeda galaxy?"

"That would be space travel, not time travel."

"You see why this is perfect, right?"


	4. Fancy Words for Porn

"Are you coming? Quinn?"

She learned to tune out Rachel's voice ages ago. But times like right now, when government class has been over long enough that every else has left the room, including today's substitute, it might be worth it to actually notice when she's talking.

"What?" Quinn quickly shuts the novel she's reading and shoves it under her notebook. She's at kind of a crucial point in the story and hopes that glee club isn't going to require any of her attention, so she can get right back to it.

"Are you coming to glee?"

"Yeah." Quinn stands and takes a second to pull her cardigan back on. It warm in this room, but the choir room always tends to be a little chilly. Probably because Mr. Schue's a cold-hearted bastard. That doesn't make any sense, though, because she was never cold in Coach's office.

Rachel, in some attempt to be helpful (and probably to expedite their journey to glee club), picks up Quinn's books to hand them to her. It's at this point that she glances at the novel's cover. "What are you reading? Is it good?"

"It's..." Quinn still has one cardigan-less arm, but she snatches the books away from Rachel. "It's European historical fiction. You'll probably think it's boring. Come on, we're going to be late."

It's apparently enough to get Rachel moving and detract attention away from the book. Momentarily.

Quinn doesn't count on Rachel going to Barnes and Noble and finding her own copy of _Tipping the Velvet_. At first, it will just be to prove that she can, in fact, work her way through historical fiction, European or not. Then it will be because the main character longs to be a performer, much like herself. And, finally, the lesbian sex scenes will be enough to make Rachel understand just why Quinn was hiding the book in the first place.

But Quinn won't learn any of this until Rachel invites her over to watch a BBC miniseries, based on a popular piece of European historical fiction.


	5. Not So Lost in Translation

Quinn gets the text in Trig class and it's actually a blessing because it wakes her up. Mr. Hutchinson is an awesome teacher, but it's Monday morning and she woke up late, so she didn't make her usual Start the Week Starbucks run.

**Hi. My shoulders want to meet the back of your thighs.**

It's from Rachel. And Quinn's still wishing she had her skinny vanilla latte.

She glances around to make sure no one's watching and types out a reply: **Why? So you can see over something? Like, you want me to hold you up?**

Within the minute, she gets a response.

**No. Horizontally.**

"What?" Quinn mutters, then realizes that was out loud. Now Sugar's totally staring at her. "What are you looking at?"

Sugar's about to say something, probably something weird and inappropriate about how she invented math or something, but Mr. Hutchinson clears his throat. "Ladies."

Quinn shoves her phone in her lap and Sugar faces the front of the room. Once the math teacher is back to working out the problem on the board, Quinn's back to figuring out what in the hell her girlfriend is trying to say to her.

She picks up her pencil and doodles an image of two figures, trying to imagine what they'd be-

"Oh."

Again, Sugar's all up in her business. And, once more, Quinn shoots her a dirty look, this time without added commentary.

The next text to Rachel says: **You want to... go down on me?**

The reply message is simply: **;)**


	6. If You Don't Turn and Walk Away

There was still another hour left of the ride home and Rachel was antsy from the caramel frapp she'd picked before they'd left Columbus. The bus was quiet, because everyone else seemed to be fairly exhausted from the day of walking tours. It hadn't been the most exhilarating field trip of all time, and most of them had already been to the state capitol at some point in elementary school. But this trip had been for their government class and had proved quite informational about processes at the state level.

Perhaps if she were looking for a change in careers later in life, Rachel would consider something in politics. Though there didn't seem to be much glamour in the day to day of it. So, maybe not.

Quinn had seemed fairly interested, however. Given the amount of notes she'd taken and the stack of brochures that Rachel had watched her collect throughout the day.

But now it was evening and they were all headed back to Lima.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked, quietly.

"Hmm?" The other girl had her sweater tucked up under her head as she leaned against the window, eyes closed.

"Would you mind if I used your netbook to play solitaire?"

"Go ahead."

They were sitting together, because they were something like friends, at this point. Ever since Rachel broke up with Finn in October, things had been slightly awkward within New Directions, but Quinn was uncharacteristically friendly with her. Perhaps it was because, when it came to choosing sides, it made sense to select the individual who hadn't ended their previous relationship with you at a funeral. Or maybe they were just growing up and getting over the petty things.

The computer was already sitting on top of Quinn's backpack, so Rachel picked it up and flipped open the cover. She also dug her iPod out of her own bag, but the battery was near death, so she packed the device away and just kept the headphones, which she plugged into the netbook. Quinn wasn't totally adverse to quality showtunes and Rachel figured the music selection had to at least contain their songs for sectionals.

Once iTunes opened, she scanned the list of albums and artists. Like most things with Quinn, there were some surprises to be found. It was as if Quinn Fabray only ever showed one facet of herself at any given time, each one more different than the next. The Motown was a given, as was the Christian rock, and she supposed the 80's pop wasn't anything out of the ordinary. But there were also names like Amy Winehouse and Joan Jett and Shakira, plus others that Rachel didn't even recognize.

There were also several playlists, labeled with simple titles like "driving" or "running" or "relaxing" and the songs within each one definitely seemed to reflect their intended motivation.

It was the one called "wishful thinking" that caught Rachel's eye.

Inside were songs like Selena's I Could Fall in Love, Nat King and Natalie Cole's duet of When I Fall in Love and the overly sentimental 90's Vanessa Williams and Bryan McKnight ballad, Love Is. They were all songs Rachel had sung in her own room, in front of her mirror, hairbrush in hand, longing for some kind of epic love that would sweep her up. She'd once thought that would happen with Finn, but he was never the grand romantic she needed.

Rachel wondered when she'd find that person, the one who made sweeping gestures and understood her need for declarative acts of romance.

Two months later, in the middle of February, she'd find a mix cd in her locker, unlabeled, yet the track listing would be identical to the one she saw that night on the bus.

There would be a note that simply said: Solitaire's for lonely losers. Be my valentine?

Rachel would stop wondering after that.


End file.
